


Doubt

by robertstanion



Category: Black Friday - Team StarKid
Genre: Angst, M/M, i got distracted by hamilton and lost motivation, im so sorry, this is really bad, trigger warnings in the description box
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-04
Updated: 2020-07-04
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:40:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25074772
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/robertstanion/pseuds/robertstanion
Summary: Xander's worries come true. Literally.
Relationships: John McNamara/Xander Lee
Comments: 3
Kudos: 10





	Doubt

**Author's Note:**

> TWs: mentions of homophobia, mentions of not eating, mentions of intrusive thoughts (?)

“Hey! Let him go!” John shouted as he appeared at the door to Xander’s lab. “He’s done nothing wrong!” Xander’s throat was closing up and tears were streaming more down his face, and he couldn’t breathe. The hand around his neck tightened and Xander choked out a gasp. The intruder was stood in his way, so he couldn’t see John. It wasn’t enough to make him feel secure. Nerves and nausea were rising and he was sure that this was how he’d die, choking to death on vomit. He made a pathetic attempt to allow oxygen into his lungs again, but he physically couldn’t breathe. His vision began to blur and he decided to close his eyes. He blacked out before he could hear the gunshot that pierced the man’s chest forcing Xander to the floor.

* * *

He woke up in his bedroom with the front of his neck stinging like crazy. He moved to shield his eyes after he opened them hardly, the sun taking to burning his vision, engraving bright spots into his sight. Running footsteps approached the far side of the room, shutting the curtains at once, before they rushed back. The bed moved down on his left side indicating someone else had just taken a seat there, and he felt safer there than he had before. He had a go at opening his eyes again, and when he did, he saw the hazy figure of his boyfriend beside him. He took a breath, aware of the tension lifted from his chest. He opened his eyes more as he watched John turn his head away.

“Everything was supposed to be perfect today.” He said quietly. “I had this plan that we’d get home from work, we’d have a good day, we’d-“

“John?” Xander asked, his voice hoarse and whispery. “What are you talking about?”

“Rest your voice.” John said, reaching under the covers for Xander’s hand. “I wanted to do this one thing right. I wanted to make you feel…special. I wanted you to see how much you meant to me, and to others…” there was a pause, and a sudden smell of smoke Xander could only assume was coming from a cigarette John was smoking. “He’s dead.”

“Who’s dead?”

“The guy who nearly killed you.” There was an awkward amount of tension before any chose to speak up again. “I saw your eyes roll back into your head. You couldn’t see me, but I was there. I wasn’t letting you die. So, carefully, I grabbed my gun and shot him in the head. He died on sight and let you go. I don’t think I’ve ever ran quicker than that in my life…” he admitted, a sad chuckle forcing it’s way out.

“What happened?”

“Well, after I caught you, I checked you over for injury. Aside from the bruising on your neck, you didn’t really have any. I signed off for the day and kept you in my arms. I drove you home.” John turned and looked at Xander. “You were having a severe panic attack, my love.”

Xander immediately looked away. Nobody was supposed to find out about his anxiety. It made him weak. If he were to work in the military, he was supposed to be strong, and yet his own boyfriend found out. He felt John squeeze his hand softly, concern thick in the air. It was enough to spark tears in his eyes, and he could tell John noticed. When Xander rolled on to his side, he heard the thud of boots hitting the floor and a strong pair of arms around his waist, drawing circles on to his stomach.

“I couldn’t care less if you have anxiety, Xander.” John assured as he rested his chin on Xander’s shoulder.

“You should. I’m weak.” He whispered, closing his eyes, as the trickle of tears began to fall once again.

“I have Aspergers Syndrome. It’s very common for people like me on the autistic spectrum to suffer with anxiety. I know what you’re going through.”

“It isn’t the same.” He sniffed, moving his shaky hand to wipe his face.

“I know it isn’t the same, and it never will be, but I’ve had enough panic attacks in my lifetime to understand what you went through today at work. You are _not_ weak.”

“I sure fucking feel it.” Xander laughed self-consciously, closing his eyes.

“I know it’s easy to feel that way, but it wasn’t your fault. You did everything you could to defend yourself. You are _not_ to blame.” He gently kissed Xander’s cheek as he pulled Xander closer to him. “Why don’t we talk about today? Together. And I’ll tell you about what happened to me too.”

Xander took deep breaths, as John could feel, and squeezed his eyes shut, beginning to recall the events of earlier.

* * *

Xander woke up that morning, rubbing his eyes, immediately seeing small dots. He checked the time on his phone and sighed. John wouldn’t be awake for another hour yet. He wasn’t one to wake up this early, and especially not before John. He found himself trying to get back to sleep, and when he couldn’t he sighed in defeat. He figured there was no harm in starting work early that day. He got up and changed, ignoring the tingling of guilt on his skin, even though he was sure he hadn’t done anything wrong. He wrapped his jacket more around him and slid his phone into his pocket. He looked at John and, after a moments hesitation, kissed his cheek. “I’ll be at work when you wake up. I love you so much,” and with that, he left the room.

He didn’t bother grabbing anything for breakfast. There wasn’t any point. He knew he should, because John was starting to worry about him, but he couldn’t. It was getting worse. With him working longer hours, he had no home for John to come home to. Lately, he was overworking himself and he didn’t know why. Maybe it was due to the fact when he was picking up his anxiety meds last week, the cashier made a comment about ‘how he looked exactly like a-‘ and Xander blocked out the slur.

It set him back a lot. He hadn’t been called a homophobic slur in years, and he was giving up trying. He was supposed to be safe, and he wanted to be safe. But in his worrying, he forgot his meds. He was losing sleep and he didn’t understand why. He’d been fine before this, he’d been able to shrug the slurs away, yet this time…this time it had forced him to stop eating, to neglect himself because if strangers refused to care about him, then why should he care about himself?

He was getting thinner, and not by choice, and there was always something in the back of his mind to convince him he was doing wrong. The voice told him to walk to work as he’d crash his car and pass away on the scene. Xander trusted the voice more than he trusted himself lately, so he walked.

When he got into PEIP, he was exhausted, having walked for the past forty minutes. His feet were aching, as was his back, but he deserved it. Even once he was in work, he tried to focus, and he couldn’t. The thoughts loomed over him. This went on for hours until his head began to pound. It took all his strength to keep working before he felt faint. He sat down at his desk, unable to stand any longer. He squeezed his eyes shut, and when they reopened, there was a figure in front of him.

“What-“ he asked weakly, but he was picked up by his collar and thrown against the wall. The figure didn’t speak, but the thoughts in Xander’s head began to grow louder and louder, not helping the headache. He was nauseated all over, and nothing was stopping him from throwing up in that moment. He tried to stand, but the figure approached him, clutching his neck and holding him against the wall, hissing the same thoughts down his ear. Xander cried out, clawing at the figure’s hand to let him go. His vision began to fade in and out, and he didn’t know what he was supposed to do. He wasn’t able to breathe quickly and he was in a lot of pain very fast. Tears didn’t stop falling as he choked for air, the grip getting tighter, and then-

* * *

John nodded and looked at Xander. “Honey, I fear that was you letting yourself lose to your enemies.” He said, kissing his jaw. “It’s factual that…in extreme cases of guilt, that things like this do happen. Now, sweetheart, I’m sorry for everything that you’ve been put through, but I’ll help you through this.” He said and looked at him. “Homophobia is a bitch, as is everything you’ve just gone through. But you’re not alone. Not anymore.”

“I love you.” He whispered softly.

“I love you too,” John smiled gently and placed a kiss on his boyfriend’s hair.

**Author's Note:**

> no comments plz thank u im aware this is trash


End file.
